Display thy breasts, my Julia, th… Behold that circummortal purity; Between whose glories, there my li… Ravished in that fair Via Lactea.

Ye silent shades, whose each tree… Some relique of a saint doth wear; Who for some sweet-heart’s sake, d… The fire and martyrdom of Love:— Here is the legend of those saints

Am I despised, because you say; And I dare swear, that I am gray? Know, Lady, you have but your day… And time will come when you shall… Such frost and snow upon your hair…

Biancha, let Me pay the debt I owe thee for a kiss Thou lend’st to me; And I to thee

Come thou, who art the wine and wi… Of all I’ve writ; The grace, the glory, and the best Piece of the rest; Thou art of what I did intend

Ask me why I send you here This sweet Infanta of the year? Ask me why I send to you This Primrose, thus bepearl’d wit… I will whisper to your ears,—

Laid out for dead, let thy last ki… With leaves and moss-work for to c… And while the wood-nymphs my cold… Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling… For epitaph, in foliage, next writ…

Man may want land to live in; but… Nature finds out some place for bu…

Beauty no other thing is, than a b… Flash’d out between the middle and…

Sea-born goddess, let me be By thy son thus graced, and thee, That whene’er I woo, I find Virgins coy, but not unkind. Let me, when I kiss a maid,

In this little urn is laid Prudence Baldwin, once my maid, From whose happy spark here let Spring the purple violet.

Though clock, To tell how night draws hence, I’… A cock I have to sing how day draws on: I have

A crystal vial Cupid brought, Which had a juice in it: Of which who drank, he said, no th… Of Love he should admit. I, greedy of the prize, did drink,

’Tis not ev’ry day that I Fitted am to prophesy: No, but when the spirit fills The fantastic pannicles, Full of fire, then I write